GO you, my lines, ambassadors of love,
With my heart's tribute to her conquering eyes,
From whence if you one tear of pity move
For all my woes, that only shall suffice.
When you Minerva in the sun behold,
At her perfections stand you then and gaze,
Where in the compass of a marigold
Meridianis sits within a maze.
And let invention of her beauty vaunt,
When Dorus sings his sweet Pamela's love,
And tell the Gods Mars is predominant,
Seated with Sol, and wears Minerva's glove ;
And tell the world, that in the world there is
A heaven on earth, on earth no heaven but this.